Is It Better, Not to Expect Anything?
by MarchHatter
Summary: The story follows Blaine, the apprentice of a blacksmith on his pursuit of happiness, and the incredibly beautiful Kurt. In this world of great expectations, Blaine asks himself, is it better, not to expect anything?


Blaine ran through the woods, his heart beating fast, enjoying the feeling of being to free. He wasn't due home for at least an hour, and he could do whatever he wanted here. He could be who he wanted. He came to a halt at the base of an old oak tree and walked slowly, talking to himself.

-O-

Kurt watched Blaine, from the tree he sat in. The boy intrigued him, though he could not say he liked him. He had curly dark brown hair, and beautiful long eyelashes that mad Kurt's heart flutter slightly. He had strong arms and a handsome face and Kurt couldn't help the warm feeling spreading through him as he watched the boy have imaginary conversations, with well-to-do gentlemen, and laughed silently. He looked at the other boys shabby clothed, then down at his own fine garments. Blaine seated himself at the bottom of the oak, and pulled a small roll from his pocket, eating it slowly, still having pretend conversation. A new person joined in his dialogue and he greeted him.

-O-

"How do you do, fine sir?" Blaine said to an imaginary figure.  
"Very well thank you." A voice said from above him. Blaine jumped, almost falling over himself in astonishment. He looked up to find a very pretty boy siting a few branches above him. He had chestnut hair, which was soft, and styled and wore fine clothes, and a pale blue coat that made his porcelain skin look even lighter. He looked down at him, his beautiful blue eyes amused. He had a soft, slightly effeminate face, and his long legs dangled down from the branch he was sitting on, one of his shoes, hanging off the edge of his toe. Blaine's heart skipped a beat.  
"What is your name?" The stunning boy asked.  
"Blaine. Blaine Anderson." Blaine replied, stuttering slightly.  
"I am Kurt Hummel." Said Kurt. He swung his legs back and forth, watching Blaine, amused as the boy struggled for words. On one particularly hard swing his shoe flew of into the forest. Kurt looked a little embarrassed, as he looked down at Blaine.  
"Could you help me down?" Now it was Blaine's turn to look amused. He held his arms out, and called up, "Jump!"

-O-

Kurt was terrified. Blaine;s arms looked strong, but the boy himself was short, and Kurt was terrified of him not being able to catch him.  
"Scared?" Blaine called up, a smirk twisting uo the corners of his mouth.  
"You wish." Whispered Kurt, as he dropped from the tree. The ground rushed at him at an incredibly fast rate. He was going to break something if he hit the ground at this sped. He turned, trying to absorb the impact in his shoulder. An impact that never came. Two muscled arms, held him, and coarse, heavily calloused hands gripped him tight. Kurt's heart rose, as he spoke.  
"I should be getting home."  
Blaine smiled. "What kind of a man would I be, if I let you _walk_home without shoes?"  
"A shoe." Kurt corrected him, smiling.  
"Where do you live?" Blaine asked.  
"Miss Hudson's, but surely you couldn't carry me there?" Kurt replied, looking incredulous.  
"It's not far. Try me." Blaine replied, his smirk back again. They set off.

There was no conversation, as they walked, and Kurt's heart never did stop its erratic beating. Blaine set Kurt down at the door to Miss Hudson's mansion, and stared at Kurt's eyes for the longest time before whispering goodbye and leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to Kurt's cheek. As he was walking away Kurt called out, "Will I see you again?"  
Blaine smiled, and called back, jokingly, "Maybe. I do love eating under the oak; we should have a picnic!" Kurt's let a small smile creep onto his face as he ran to his room in the dark house. He was oddly happy for the rest of that day, and when he slept, he dreamt of that forest.

The next morning, Kurt woke to the doorbell ringing. He dressed quickly, and ran to the door, flinging it open, finding nobody there, but seeing a short curly haired figure running through the gates. He looked down to see a shoe on the foot of the door. Pinned to the shoe was a note, and in an untidy scrawl it said, '_One o'clock, don't be late, and bring food!'_


End file.
